Mirror, mirror
by Shanne
Summary: Mirror, mirror on the wall, who would I shag most of all? - written because I was rather horny and decided to share the feeling. Slash HPDM.


Harry decided he hated his boyfriend's job

**General warnings: **

1) This fic deals with **SLASH**. Slash as in boy/boy relationships, comprendre? Not your cup of tea, then go get coffee. _No_ flames accepted. **You have been warned.**

2) English is _not_ my mother tongue so please excuse possible mistakes and kindly point them out so that I may actually _learn_ from them.

**Rating:** NC-17

**Disclaimer: **I own diddly squat.

**Summary: **Mirror, mirror on the wall, who would I shag most of all?

**A/N: **Okay, this oneshot hasn't been beta-ed so any mistakes or difficulties with phrases are my own. Feel free to point them out.

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**Mirror, mirror**

**by Shawn Anne**

Harry sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor, dressed in only a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, staring longingly at the body-sized mirror in front of him. His eyes were fixed on the shining glass, somewhere on a point above his own reflection. His eyes trailed little dust particles that lazily danced around in the early morning light, right above the unmade bed. He smiled wryly and wished he wouldn't be alone on a Sunday morning.

His expression turned soft and his eyes grew darker as he thought about_ their_ lazy Sundays. His and Draco's... It was the only day of the week that Draco would indulge in his boyfriend's need to be idle… would allow them to stay in bed in a complex tangle of limbs, fingers graciously stroking sleep-warmed skin.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back, his arms planting themselves in the Axminster as his body weight rested on them.

Draco would always deny it later, but Harry knew the blond loved to laze around just as much as he did. He could see it in the soft grey eyes as they looked at him and in the gentle touches that made his blood rush wildly.

A smile graced his lips.

He missed his boyfriend… He really did. Which is _why_ he was sitting in front of the mirror like a Narcissistic git.

Draco was good with spells. His pureblood heritage assured a deeper knowledge of the way magical objects worked… such as two-way mirrors.

Harry couldn't help but grin widely as he remembered Draco casting certain charms on the bathroom mirror, so that when he was away, he and Harry could always see and talk to each other. The only added bonus was that Draco's touch to the spell improved the connection. That meant that they could feel each other's touch against the glass. Harry had been both startled and awed by this discovery and he admitted to himself that now he could live with Draco's long absences. It only became easier once they'd bought a full body mirror for their bedroom.

A wicked though suddenly entered his mind and Harry's smile turned positively feral.

A glance at the clock confirmed it was 6:52… Draco would appear reflected in the looking glass in exactly eight minutes, which was just enough time for Harry to put his plan into practice.

His head lolled back as he called forth images of his blond lover. He pictured his pale lips and aristocratic features, grey eyes shining with mischief or glazed over with lust. He remembered the soft touch of Draco's hands on him, and the feeling of a hard body against his own… He forced to the front the memory of Draco's tongue gliding against his own and licking along his chest and abdomen, trailing lower and lower so slowly that Harry often thought he would go crazy with desire.

Harry gave a tiny whimper that sounded unusually loud in the empty bedroom, feeling his cock harden with each memory. One of his arms abandoned their duty of sustaining his body upright and went to one of his dark nipples. He gasped as a blunt nail grazed the hardening bud and his hand flattened across his chest, fingers splayed like a web across the pectorals. Harry swallowed while his hand began a slow descending path… It caressed his stomach, making the muscles quiver slightly in anticipation.

Harry moaned as his fingers reached the waistband, but he didn't allow them to slip beneath it. Harry's hand trailed over the visible tent in the pajama bottoms, bringing with it a sharp intake of breath. He cupped his half hard erection through the trousers and released the breath as his hand rubbed through the material, bringing him blissful friction, yet not nearly enough of it.

The motion was maddening… Up and down, up and down, each time a teasing flare coursing down his spine and making him clench his muscles and trust upwards into his awaiting palm.

Biting on his lower lip, Harry gave in and slipped his hand beneath the pajamas, gasping and moaning the moment his fingers circled around his prick. He tugged at the erect body part and his lips parted slightly, panted breaths flowing between them in an irregular rhythm.

"Oh, _fuck_," a familiar voice filled the room.

Harry's movements stopped and he looked into the mirror with a smirk, eyes settling on the reflection of his boyfriend, who was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe. Aforementioned bathrobe did nothing to hide a certain hardness in the general area of the blond's groin. Draco's eyes were glazed over with lust, pale wisps of hair falling over them, shielding their intensity.

"Hey, stranger," Harry greeted in a low, husky voice.

"W-what are you doing?" Draco asked and Harry was deeply satisfied to hear him stumble over his words slightly.

Harry hummed slightly and closed his eyes, his hand resuming its steady, agonizing rhythm. "Taking care of a problem," he said casually.

He could have sworn he heard Draco swallow forcefully. Harry forced back a smile and uncrossed his legs, planting them on the ground and spreading them as much as possible, reclining himself on his left elbow. His right hand made an upwards movement and _twisted_ just beneath the head and Harry released a needy whimper, his head falling back and exposing his neck to his lover.

"Fuck," Draco said again and Harry didn't have to open his eyes to know that the blond was touching himself, pale fingers stroking his own hard member expertly.

Harry's mind conjured up an image of Draco standing before him, one arm braced against the mirror's frame, the other snaked around his prick which would poke slightly through the bathrobe, hard and red. His bottom lip would be caught between a set of perfect white teeth, eyes glazed over with sheer lust. Harry bit his lip as his own cock gave a decidedly strong twitch at the mental image. He moaned and reluctantly released his hardness.

"Don't you dare stop," came Draco's voice immediately.

Harry opened his eyes and made a veritable imitation of Malfoy's smirk. He absently vanished his pajama bottoms and heard his lover's breath hitch. Harry smirked again. His hand trailed upwards, caressing toned abs and strong chest, trailing loosely over his neck and stopping at his lips. One finger slipped into his mouth and Harry made a show out of sucking on it.

Draco gave a small whimper.

Another finger joined the first. Draco made a little keening noise.

Harry absently Summoned his wand with his left hand and gave a little wave. Behind him, one of their armchairs materialized and the Gryffindor leaned back against it as he abandoned his wand in favor of another.

"Harry," Draco said, a hint of a whine tinting the name.

Harry smiled and took his cock in his left hand, stroking at a maddeningly slow rate. Through half lidded eyes, he saw Draco's lust filled eyes focused on his erection, his own hand working furiously. The Gryffindor moaned at the sight and released his fingers. He trailed them teasingly over his body, shivering as they passed over the juncture between leg and hip and gasping as they caressed his perineum.

"Merlin," Draco breathed as Harry slipped both fingers inside himself.

"Just Harry, thanks," he teased, unable to keep his voice from hitching as his fingers pushed in deeper, his hand moving faster.

It was a statement to just how aroused Draco was that there was no retort forthcoming. Harry felt a sudden sense of smugness at this. That sense was quickly shot when a jolt of electricity coursed up and down his spine. He moaned and arched his back at the sensation, pushing against his fingers as much as the position allowed him, his left hand squeezing a little harder, moving a little faster.

"Shit," Draco cursed, but Harry paid him no heed.

He was lost in the sensations as he fucked himself on his fingers hard and stroked his cock with equal dedication.

Another brush against his prostate had him throwing his head back and moaning particularly loud: "_Gods!"_

A needy whimper from the mirror reminded him of his lover.

"Merlin, Harry!" Draco said in a husky, yet strained voice. "I need… Gods, I need-"

He didn't get to finish, for Harry pulled his fingers out and stood swiftly, walking quickly to the mirror and pressing himself against its surface. Draco aligned his body to his from the other side, making them moan and hiss at the electric sensation of skin on skin.

They were still for just a brief moment, reveling in the feeling, before Harry jerked his hips upwards, rubbing his cock against Draco's own reflected one.

"_Fuck!_" he cursed loudly as the Slytherin began moving with him, creating blissful friction.

Two thrusts later, Harry could feel warmth coiling inside of him, numbing his body from the inside out. He gave a loud, wanton moan, thrusting faster against the reflection, his back arching. "Draco… Gonna… _oh!…_ gonna-"

His voice was lost in a silent cry as he came, long and hard against the mirror, yellow lights flickering behind his eyelids. He could hear only his blood rushing and the beat of his own heart as his senses focused inwards. He was only dimly aware of Draco shuddering on the other side and warmth seeping into him as he panted, breath fogging the looking glass.

Draco's voice filtered through his orgasmic haze. "Merlin, Potter."

Harry just swallowed, still recovering from the intensity of his climax. It was a wonder how Draco's presence alone could cause him to go into an overdrive of sensations. He opened his eyes and locked them with dark silver ones. And grinned.

"How's South America?" he quipped.

Draco did something decidedly un-Malfoy like and snorted while rolling his eyes. "Honestly, after that show you put on, it's a hell."

Harry grinned, "When are you coming home?"

Draco's grin turned positively feral as he Summoned his wand and a packed suitcase, along with a rather odd-shaped object that resembled a crossbreed between a bishop and a fool.

"_Portus_," said and in a he was gone from the mirror, the reflection dissipating and leaving only Harry's behind.

Pouting, Harry turned to the armchair and moved behind him to recover his pajama bottoms. He was about to bend down when the sharp crack of Apparition had him looking back up in the mirror. Behind him, a rather smug-looking Draco Malfoy stood, dressed in nothing but the bathrobe.

The blonde moved behind Harry and grasped his hips, grinding his already half-hard cock against his arse. Harry keened softly, turning his head to receive a kiss from his lover.

"Did you Portkey into the Ministry wearing only that?" Harry asked breathlessly after they broke the kiss.

Draco's smirk and the thrust against his opening was all the answer Harry needed.

**End**

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